Sex Tape
by deadliestdeceit
Summary: A sex-tape of Rachel Berry gets spread around McKinley High. For a prompt at the rq meme.  links on profile page


**Title:** Sex Tape

**Author:** deadliestdeceit

**Length:** 3500 roughly.

**Rating:** PG-13/R?

**Pairing:** Rachel/Quinn.

**Spoilers:** Up to Showmance, so yeah. Doubtful that I'm spoiling anything, lol.

**Warnings:** Sexual themes.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Glee or it's characters.

**Summary:** A sex-tape of Rachel Berry gets spread around McKinley High. For this prompt at the rq_meme. (posted links on my profile page)

**A/N:** Sort of veered off the prompt a little, but eh, it happens? Hope you enjoy, though. I'm half asleep and this has barely been proofread. Mistakes will be numerous. You've been warned ;)

—

At first, it's an unassuming vibration in the left pocket of his fashionable slacks, and he immediately thinks it has to be from Mercedes—most likely the usual update on the latest piece of McKinley High gossip, which is always rather boring and repetitive—so it's with no amount of enthusiasm that he unlocks his phone. He's a little surprised to find it's a multimedia message and his interest peaks as he notices that it's also from an unknown number.

"_Oh_," a breathy moan is heard from the iPhone's speakers as the dark-haired girl on the screen arches against a wall, "_Just, yes—god, there. Mmm._" long, shapely naked legs are thrown over her (obviously female) companion's shoulders as the brunette's fingers tangle into her unknown counterpart's free flowing blonde hair. Kurt's face scrunches in distaste as he realises what exactly is going on in the video, only to have his eyes widen moments later when a dark-haired head turns towards the camera, revealing the unmistakeable face of Rachel Berry—Glee club's _Rachel Berry_—her expression contorted in pleasure as she writhes and whimpers in reaction to her partners ministrations.

"Ohmygod," he squeaks in astonishment, a furious blush rising in his cheeks, unable to do anything other than to continue to watch. Unlike most boys his age—which would be enraptured by the fact they have been anonymously sent, for all intents and purposes, lesbian porn—Kurt find's himself watching because for him, it's like watching a train wreck. It's disturbing and horrific; yet you can't find it within yourself turn your gaze away from the traumatising sight.

The video continues, Rachel's moans becoming increasingly loud and guttural, and Kurt is relieved to have his earphones plugged in. He could just imagine the looks he would receive from his schoolmates if they heard those sorts of sounds coming from his phone, in the middle of the hallway, of all places. Feeling suddenly paranoid, he glances around, and his brows furrow in slight disbelief as he sees the majority of the corridor's occupants are also watching something on their phones as well. Some are holding their hands over their mouths in astonishment, or giggling with their friends; others are watching in stunned awe, utterly engrossed.

It's almost like a light bulb literally flashes above his head, then.

"Oh, no." closing the video abruptly, he looks around frantically for Mercedes. When he can't find her, he decides there's only one thing he can do. He sends a group message to the rest of the Glee club (excluding Rachel) to meet in the choir room _asap_.

—

It takes nearly twenty minutes for everyone to arrive, Puck being the last the swagger through the door, looking sleazier than ever, phone in hand and a frown on his face. "This better be good, Hummel," he falls into one of the choir room chairs, "I'm missing out on some prime Jewberry lesbo-porn viewing-time by coming to this stupid meeting."

Quinn's head tilts, something not unlike dread pooling in her stomach all of a sudden.

"So you've seen it as well." Kurt tries not to shudder too visibly, the images forever seared into his poor, impressionable mind. He's never going to be able to look at Rachel the same again, that's for sure.

The look on Puck's face confirms his statement.

Clearing his throat, Kurt begins speaking. "Okay, well, first things first, does anyone know who sent the video around? I mean, it surely wasn't Rachel, because even though she _is_ an attention seeker, she would never go to these lengths for recognition—"

"What are you talking about?" Quinn's voice is strangled, and when everyone turns their attention to her, they see the way she's clutching the sides of her seat. "What video?"

The room goes nearly silent, with the exception of Finn, who quietly chants 'mailman' under his breath while everyone else seems to be uneasy and flustered (not including Santana, Brittany and Puck).

After a few moments, Mercedes finally speaks up, "You didn't get an anonymous multimedia message earlier?"

"No," Quinn swallows, the dread she's feeling even more pronounced now. "I lost my phone yesterday…"

Mercedes looks like she doesn't know how to continue. "Ah—um, well it—uh,"

"What Wheezy is _trying_ to say," Santana cuts in, rolling her eyes. "Is that a sex-tape of some chick going down on Berry has gone viral at McKinley High." Quinn swears she can feel her heart in her throat. "It totally makes the hobbit, like, ten times hotter, too." Santana then continues, leaning back in her chair and licking her lips. "I wouldn't mind getting in on that."

Quinn's hands clutch the chair even harder, and something other than dread is now pumping feverishly through her veins. The dread however morphs into panic when she registers what actually had just been said.

She freezes in horror, unable to comprehend.

"What about me?" Brittany pouts.

"With you too, of course." Santana reassures, smiling sweetly at the svelte girl.

"Wait," Mercedes begins, "You and Brittany are—"

Santana's chilling glare cuts her off for a second time and while Mercedes is offended, she decides it would be safer not to go there and crosses her arms with an irritated huff instead.

"Oh no," Quinn chokes out at last, getting her feet and pacing anxiously, finally able to move. "No, no, no… this isn't happening."

The blonde ignores the curious looks she garnering and stalks over to Puck and snatches his phone out of his unsuspecting hand, she ignores his disgruntled 'hey!' and quickly scrolls through his messages until she finds a the video. The glee clubbers hear some moaning briefly before the phone is shut off and thrown with force into Puck's lap.

"Ow," he whines, rubbing at his crotch, "What was that fo—"

"Delete that," Quinn hisses, looking livid, "Delete that right _now_." Her eyes turn from him, to the rest of the rooms occupants, "That goes for all of you."

"No," Santana protests, "What does it matter to you? It's _Manhand's_. You'd think with your history you'd be ecstatic about something like this happening. It's like, the ultimate humiliation." Then under her breath, "_Well if it wasn't so hot, it would be, anyway._"

"Well I'm not," the blonde snarls furiously, hands on her hips. Her wild hazel-eyes glance over every single member of New Directions as she says, "And you will all delete that off your phones, _right_ this second, or I swear, I'll have each and every one of you practically bathing in slushies for the rest of the school year. That even includes you three," she gestures to Santana, Brittany and Finn, "_Understood_?"

Frightened into submission, they all concede to the Head Cheerio's demands, taking out their phones and deleting the movie, Puck contemplates copying the file on to his phone and deleting the message, but with a glance at Quinn, thinks better of it. Finn, however, can't keep his filter in check. "I thought you hated Rachel. It almost seems like you're _protecting_ her."

He shrinks in his seat when Quinn's eyes focus coldly on his own. "That reminds me… I can't be with you anymore, Finn." And then turns to Kurt while her newly appointed ex-boyfriend gazes at her, slack-jawed, "Find Rachel, and bring her here." When the effeminate boy doesn't react, she snaps her fingers and growls. "_Now_."

—

Rachel is in the auditorium, oblivious to the release of any sort of sex-tape and practicing her scales when Kurt bursts through the door. She watches with confusion as he stares at her with an unrecognisable expression on his face, blushing hotly.

It's when he continues to stare without saying anything that she begins to feel slightly uncomfortable and shifts in place, nervously brushing back a strand of hair from her face.

"Kurt," she starts, her tone courteous, "May I ask why you felt the need to burst in so dramatically and then proceed to gape at me as though I have sprouted another head? Is there something you needed?"

His response is garbled and disjointed and his cheeks flare an even deeper shade of red. "Quinn… video… choir room…"

Bewildered, Rachel's face twists in confusion. "Could you repeat that, please? I didn't quite understand you."

Managing to compose himself somewhat, Kurt tries again, "Ah, there's an emergency Glee m-meeting in the choir room," his voice cracks.

"Why?" Rachel meets his eyes, utterly bemused.

He wrings his hands, "Just something," he shrugs jerkily, "Come on."

Shaking her head, the brunette follows him out. They stride down the halls in silence, Kurt not looking anywhere but straight ahead, while Rachel glances around confused at all the people throwing her looks; ranging from leers, to amusement, to winks and coy nods.

"Nice vid, Berrylicious!" Azimio shouts from his locker, grinning lewdly. "Wanna make one with me one day?" Utterly baffled, Rachel opens her mouth to question what on earth he's talking about, but before she can, Kurt is grabbing her wrist and forcefully pulling her along.

"What—"

Kurt shushes her instantly.

Rachel's mouth opens once again, but Kurt stops her before she can begin ranting.

"No."

"Why—"

"_No_, Rachel."

Sighing in defeat, Rachel reluctantly allows herself to be guided along.

—

"Promise you won't be mad." Is the first thing Quinn says when Kurt and Rachel first enter the room.

Worried and suspicious now, Rachel crosses her arms and stares at Quinn with a quirked eyebrow. The rest of the Glee members watch the exchange, even more curious and confused than they have been all day.

Pursing her lips, the cogs of Santana's mind are set in motion and it's not long until things click into place. Shocked and feeling like she's about to burst, she grins quite maliciously, pointing a Quinn as she does so. "Oh. My. Fucking. God… it's you! Mi dios! I can't believe… you and the midget. This is absolutely _priceless_!" she crows, throwing her head back as she dissolves into hysterical laughter.

"Shut up!" Quinn retorts angrily, glaring murderously at the Hispanic girl while simultaneously trying to blink back emotional tears. "Close your mouth right now, Lopez, or you'll be on the bottom of the pyramid for the rest of the year!"

Santana continues of cackle, and then like a dam had broken, chaos ensues with everyone firing questions left and right.

"What is going on here?" Rachel yells finally—stomping her foot; completely fed up with being so desperately out of the loop. The room quiets at her bellowing outburst. "I'm being stared at like a piece of meat in the halls, Kurt interrupts my scales babbling about a video, Quinn looks like she's about to cry, Santana is… I don't even _know_ what Santana's doing and you are all acting like a bunch of raving lunatics. Can someone please explain to me what is going on!"

There's a hush, and all eyes turn to Quinn, whose mind crumbles under the extreme amounts of expectation being projected at her.

"A sex-tape of us got out!" It falls from Quinn's lips like word-vomit, and she closes her eyes; bracing herself for one of Rachel's infamous temper tantrums. "And it's all over the school and _please_, please don't kill me Rachel!"

"What?" Finn shouts, going unnoticed in the cacophony of noise that breaks out amongst everyone once again.

"What sex-tape?" Rachel stares at her like she's insane, tone disbelieving. "We haven't _got_ a sex-tape!" Quinn doesn't open her eyes.

"Well, that's the thing…"

"You didn't…" the brunette's eyes are blazing, "Quinn Celeste Fabray, you _did not_."

"I'm sorry?" Quinn offers meekly, slowly cracking her eyes open and looking like a thoroughly repentant child.

"That. Is. _So_. Hot." Puck mutters breathlessly from the back of the room. No one pays attention to him, riveted by the scene presented to them—except for Finn, who punches his best friend in the shoulder and scowls.

"Can you all leave?" Quinn says heatedly, finally acknowledging their spectators. "This is private, so if you all wouldn't mind, please _get the hell out_."

The Glee club depart instantaneously, with the exception of Finn, who stands in place—his expression wounded and pitiful as he looks morosely at his ex-girlfriend.

"Hudson," Quinn purses her lips, "Are you deaf? I said _leave_."

"No," Finn refuses, standing his ground against her for what feels like the first time in years, "I deserve an explanation, Quinn. You _cheated_ on me." he looks incredulous when the cheerleader just raises an eyebrow indifferently. "How can you just ignore that? You hurt me! And you too Rachel," he turns to the brunette, "I can't believe you would do this to me. I was your friend. Your only friend."

"Her _friend_," Quinn scoffs, and Rachel looks away from them both shamefully, knowing precisely what was going to come next. "You are such a hypocrite. Don't act so self-righteous, because we both know you've done the exact same thing to me and not only that, with the same person."

"It was one kiss!" he says defensively, waving his arms around uselessly as he tries to get his point across. "And I felt _guilty_. You don't even seem like you_ care_ that you hurt me."

"I don't," Quinn's tone is hard and icy. Rachel shoots her a disapproving glance and the blonde rolls her eyes and exhales heavily. "Look, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings okay? I didn't know you liked me so much. I just," she pauses, eyes turning to the brunette who was standing silently to her left for a brief instant before looking back at Finn, "I love her," she says in almost a whisper, pretending not to notice the adoring smile Rachel shoots her. "And you really don't understand how lucky you are to just be getting dumped. I mean—I seriously considered killing you when she told me you two had kissed."

"I don't understand," the lumbering jock finally says after a rather lengthy pause, shoving his hands in his pockets and furrowing his brows. "Don't you have any feelings for me at all?"

"No," Quinn isn't apologetic, but she isn't malicious either. "I never have. You were a popularity boost and didn't pressure me all that much for sex. That's why I dated you for so long. It was wrong of me to use you that way." She says it bluntly, but her words are honest.

He nods and it's neither forgiving nor angry. "Yeah, it was." The tall boy scratches his head then, "But… why did Rachel kiss me if you guys were—uh—y'know…" he waves his hands vaguely between the two.

Quinn's face goes blank, self-loathing and Finn-loathing instantly bubbling her chest. Beside her, Rachel practically radiates regret. "I made a mistake," the petite girl answers quietly, "I was angry at Quinn for something she said and I wanted to upset her like she upset me. I shouldn't have brought you into it." She swallows, "I was obtuse. I'm sorry." The apology isn't directed to Finn.

He was lost at 'obtuse' anyway.

"Well there you have it," the blondes words are curt, and she gestures towards the door. "You've gotten the explanation you wanted," her smile is insincere, "Now you can leave."

Finn looks like he wants to say something further, but seems to change his mind. It's with one last glance at them that he exits, finally giving them the privacy they had been craving.

It's silent as both Rachel and Quinn stare at each other, but the brunette's curiosity has been nagging at her and she really can't keep herself from asking her next question. "So… when did you, um, film the—" Rachel's voice lowers to a stage whisper, "_Sex-tape_?"

Quinn's eyes slam shut and she feels the dread back in the pit of her stomach, she's glad however, that the rage her girlfriend had been displaying earlier has seemingly dissipated. "Last Friday, in your room. I was going dow—"

"Oh," Rachel cuts her off, blushing profusely. "Um, how?"

"I just had my phone on your dresser… recording." The cheerleader admits grudgingly, her own cheeks darkening as apologetic hazel-eyes slowly peek open to meet her lovers confused, slightly hurt gaze.

"Why?" Rachel questions, as she moves to sit in one of the nearby seats, running a hand through her hair. "Why didn't you just ask, Quinn?"

"I did ask," Quinn replies, her voice hinting her frustration. "And you just laughed at me, remember?"

"I thought you were joking." The singer says softly, looking away. "And I'm paying for it, obviously."

"I really am sorry, baby." The Head Cheerio gets on her knees in front of her girlfriend (previously secret girlfriend) and lays her head on Rachel's lap, mumbling her next couple of sentences. "I'm not sorry I made it, but I'm sorry I didn't get your permission and lost my phone, which gave some pervert the chance to spread it around. If it means you'll forgive me, you can do the same with those naked pictures of me sleeping I _know_ you have somewhere."

Rachel's cheeks flare again and she's suddenly feeling thoroughly caught out and dishonest. Hesitantly, she threads her hands through Quinn's hair, "No, I think I'll keep them to myself. I don't need to do that to forgive you. I already have—forgiven you, I mean, not sent out the pictures…" the blonde's expression turns to amusement and she glances up to meet dark eyes as the other girl coughs, embarrassed. "Anyway, it would be hypocritical of me if I didn't. It's not like I asked for permission to take those photos, either. So, I think it's safe to say we're even."

"Hmm," Quinn hums in agreement into the singers thighs, "I'm gonna hunt down whoever did this, you know that right?"

"Yep," Rachel grinned, "And I'm helping you, of course."

"Any suspects?" the blonde queries playfully.

"Yes, as it happens, I do have an inkling of suspicion toward someone. Which isn't surprising. I do pride myself on the advanced development of my psychic-like sixth sense."

"Oh? Your spidey-senses tingling, huh?" Quinn looks up again, mirth in her eyes. "So who's the unlucky villain?"

"Jacob." The brunette answers, rolling her eyes at her girlfriends teasing. "This is exactly the sort of thing he would do."

"Oh, why didn't I think of him? This is _right_ down his alley," Quinn's face sours. "Do you think I should go with scare tactics or brute force to get him to admit it? And at least, if it isn't him, he would probably know who it was."

"Quinn," Rachel starts reproachfully, "You know how I feel about—"

"Okay, scare tactics it is then."

—

It's hours later that Jacob is left crying in his room, terrified out of his wits, and Quinn's phone is back in her hands.

It takes another couple of days, however, for the HBIC to threaten every single McKinley High student into deleting the video. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop the hopeful crop of idiots that she calls her peers from pestering her girlfriend with their moronic propositions and utterly unsubtle flirting.

_Pathetic_, she thinks—glowering as some guy unsuccessfully attempts to charm Rachel at her locker. Quinn has the strange, disturbing urge to rip out his jugular, but it isn't because she's jealous. No way.

Well, that's what she tells herself, anyway.

It really doesn't help that Rachel absolutely adores all the extra attention she's getting and the hefty popularity increase. Neither does the fact that Quinn can't just tell all the wannabe-suitors to _fuck off_, because they hadn't actually come-out to the rest of the school yet. (Quinn's identity was never revealed in the video, as the only visual of herself was from the back. She's simultaneously relieved and disappointed by this.)

The blonde is torn from her musings when she hears Rachel's loud (adorable) peals of laughter. Possessive nature ruffled, Quinn's finds herself stomping over to her girlfriend and the imbecile trying to impress her with his lame (actually rather good) jokes. "You," she sneers, cutting him off mid-sentence and managing to look down at him, even though he's a good head taller then she is. Rachel startles a little at her abrupt presence, but beams happily all the same. "Go away."

Unsurprisingly, he scurries off right away. She is the Head Cheerleader, after all.

Quinn turns to Rachel's bright smile, her expression unreadable and eyes dark. Grabbing the girl's hand, she pulls the brunette along, ignoring her protests, and drags her into the nearest unoccupied classroom.

The brunette begins her typical outraged ranting immediately, but soon enough she's pushed against the desk in the middle of the room and cut off by soft, insistent lips against her own. The kiss deepens swiftly, and it's not long before it's a heated make out session.

"I knew it," Rachel gasps, tilting her head to the side as Quinn's lips trail over the sensitive skin of her neck. "You're jealous."

Quinn nips her pulse point in retaliation, the action is followed by a disgruntled 'I'm not jealous' being muffled into the brunettes shoulder.

"Hmm…" the singer hums doubtfully, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "I don't know, you're being terribly territorial… glaring at every person who comes within two feet of me."

"I'm not." A sneaky hand is suddenly sliding into Rachel's underwear, Quinn's dexterous fingers are then losing themselves in her pulsating heat, and the debate over Quinn's jealousy is completely forgotten; replaced by moans, whimpers and wanton pleas.

—

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